Auld Lang Syne
by stress
Summary: The newsies on New Year's Eve: a poker game, the subject of resolutions and… a kiss?


******Disclaimer**: The characters in this story are the property of Disney and are only used for fan related purposes.

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**Auld Lang Syne**

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New Year's Eve day wasn't really all that different from every other day at the Newsboys' Lodging House on Duane Street. Kloppman, the old superintendent, woke them up early like he always did and, like they always did, the newsies made their way down Newspaper Row to the distribution center where they bought their papes and tried their damndest to sell them.

If they did, a couple of the boys made their way over to Tibby's for a sarsaparilla and a hot dog—maybe even some fried chicken if they did really well. And if they didn't… well, Kloppman was known to look the other way every now and then. Besides, it was the start of a new year tomorrow and it was good luck to start the new year off right.

Which was why New Year's Eve night—like the past few New Year's Eve nights before it—found a particular group of boys crowded around a small square table in a spare room on the floor just about the bunkrooms. There were five of them at the table: Jack, Race, Blink, Skittery and Mush. They were some of the older boys, if not in age than in the years they'd spent together in the lodging house. It was the last day of the year again, December 31st, and another year had gone by where they made their living hawking the headlines on good days and carrying the banner on not-so-good ones.

They were each nibbling on a somewhat stale doughnut that Skittery seemed to have nicked from somewhere (though, of course he didn't tell them exactly where—he had a feeling the fellas might not take too kindly to the bakery's trash). Of course, being New Year's Eve, there was an abundance of doughnuts to be found around the city and only Race eyed his curiously before eating half of his in one bite. Circle of life, the way one year spins into the next, it was all the same when a free doughnut made a costly dinner go down a little easier.

There were a short pile of worn cards dealt out in front of four of the boys, a game of poker in progress. Of them all, Mush was the only one not playing and that was because, well, he wasn't _allowed _to play. The bewildered look and the sad puppy-dog eyes when he lost all his coins three hands into the game was just too much for the other boys. So he stood behind Blink's chair, joining in on the conversation, so guileless that it never even occurred to him to cheat.

Well, I say joining in on the conversation when, really, he was the one carrying it. All the other boys were too interested in watching the friendly game and making sure it stayed that way.

"—and I said, I mean, I told ol' man Hill that I'd help him push his cart across the street and he gave me an apple for my trouble. A whole apple," Mush beamed, "and only the smallest hole on the top. It was great, too. Real crunchy. A New Year's treat. Wasn't that nice?"

"Oh, yeah. Nice, Mush," Blink replied automatically. He was dealing this round and he was waiting for Jack to make a decision regarding his hand. Jack held up two fingers, Blink tossed two cards across the table, and put the rest of the deck face-down to wait out the rest of the ante. Keeping his good eye on Race in case, he said to Mush, "You lookin' forward to the new year, pal?"

Mush gripped the back of Blink's chair excitedly. "I already got my promise for the next year all set. How 'bout you fellas? Got your resolutions ready?"

"Next year," Race promised with a scowl, watching Jack whoop when he won the round and he raked the pile of pennies toward his side of the table (and out of Race's reach), "next year I'm gonna win big."

Jack's cocky smirk tugged on his lips, one ink-stained hand perched over his winnings. He was gloating, a perennial bad winner no matter when they played. "Ah, Race, ya said that last year."

"So what?" Race shot back, chewing on the stub of his cigar. "I gotta win eventually."

"Me," Jack said, ignoring Race as he stacked his pennies, counting them, "my resolution is I'm gonna get out of New York this year."

Race's laugh came out like a bark, a short yap that kept his teeth clamped around the cigar so that it didn't fall to the nicked tabletop. "Yeah, and you think _mine_'s a repeat, eh, Cowboy?"

"I got a better chance of leavin' the city than you do of winnin' big."

"Ha!" Race laughed again, louder this time and he only managed to catch his cigar by placing one of his pudgy hands underneath it as it dropped. It was a good thing he hadn't lit it yet. "You know you're stuck here just like the rest of us."

Jack opened his mouth to argue again, but Mush cut him off before he got a single word out. "I resolve to be the best person I can," he told the others. There was such an earnestness to his voice that they couldn't help but believe him and wonder, perhaps, if maybe they should take a leaf out of Mush's book. Jack's gaze met Race's, a silent apology passed between the two old friends, and then their little spat was forgotten.

Blink scooped the cards back up, shuffling them easily and dealing them out in one fluid motion. As he gestured to the others to make their bets, he said, "Ya know, I think you got a point there, Mush. Count me in on that." A lazy, perverted grin split his lips after a second. "That and I'm gonna get myself that date with the mayor's daughter!"

"Does the mayor even have a daughter?"

"Hell, his granddaughter then," Blink said in answer to Mush's question, "I ain't picky."

Race's laugh was more of a chortle and Jack snickered under his breath as he stared at his cards unblinkingly. Mush's laugh was low and just a little confused, more so because he realized Blink's response got a smile out of everyone except for Skittery.

He moved so that he was standing behind Skittery's chair. Mush didn't even notice it when Skittery blanched and then lowered his cards so that it was impossible for anyone to peek. Instead, he went on cheerily to say,"What about you, Skittery?"

"Pink," Skittery mumbled.

"What?"

He glanced up, daring the other's to say anything back. "If I do anything this year, I'm gonna get myself a new union suit. One that ain't pink."

Race crowed his laughter this time. His fight with Jack over, the short gambler turned his attention on the lanky, pink-wearing newsie sitting with him at the table. "That's right, I almost forgot 'bout your longjohns, Skitts. Ya never found out who did it, did ya? Made 'em all nice and pin—"

"I'd watch it if I was you, Race," Jack interrupted. His eyebrows were knit together under the thick stands of greasy hair that fell forward into his dark eyes, a full warning that he hoped Race chose to heed. The last thing he needed was anyone bringing all that back up again. New year and all that. No need to bring up last year's follies, right?

Especially not when he had a hand in it himself…

Skittery was frowning, his brow furrowed as if there was some heavy duty thinking going on behind his glum and dumb façade. Everyone knew he would give up his selling spot in a heartbeat just to find the scabber who turned his dirty white union suit that shade of pink, just like everyone knew that they'd rather go one-on-one with both Delancey's than rat Jack Kelly out. Still, that didn't mean that Skittery wasn't still stewing over it or that he wouldn't figure it out in the end. In fact, it was almost like realization was beginning to dawn.

The suspicious glare that Skittery was suddenly shooting across the table at a seemingly innocent Jack could've lit up Times Square. But, luckily for one newsie if not the other, Mush was more than happy to innocently break up the awkward moment in only the way he could.

"You know, resolutions are great this time of year," he piped up thoughtfully, "but I always heard it was tradition to share a kiss at midnight."

There was silence for a moment as his words sunk in. It was even more awkward than it had been, the kind of silence that seems to last and last and, wow, had it really gotten so late? But it didn't last forever and it was Race, most curious of them all, who said, "A kiss? What the hell for?"

Mush shrugged, oblivious. "I dunno. Somethin' 'bout the evil spirits of the old year being purified for a kiss for the new year. I remember… I remember someone tellin' me that once."

"A kiss?" asked Skittery, his frown even more pronounced, but for a whole other reason entirely now.

Mush nodded happily. "Yup."

Just then the small clock in the corner of the room, cracked and chipped and old as it was, it started to chime.

It was midnight.

Four of the five boys exchanged glances—on the part of Kid Blink, it was a little difficult with his one good eye but he managed—as the clock's suddenly too-loud bells continued to ring. One… two… three—

Jack Kelly cleared his throat, the sound as gratingly uncomfortable as they all suddenly felt.

"I, uh, I think we'd better just stick with the resolutions."

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**End Note**: This is my answer to Peg's TS about how the boys would spend their New Year's Eve. It's pretty much a consensus that they'd sit around, playing poker, and I definitely agree :) Of course, I do have an ulterior motive. I'm in the middle of a new fic I hope to start posting soon and I purposely put in a clue or two here for my own amusement. As well as references to _Pink_ - cause I tell ya, that'll never get old!

Happy New(sie) Year!

- stress, 12.31.10


End file.
